


Traveler's Eve

by lesbiandruid



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Minor canon divergence, sad lesbian hours, sapphic ideas for things that could happen, the math of love triangles, what could have been.................
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26415805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbiandruid/pseuds/lesbiandruid
Summary: 'Twas the night before Travelercon, and all through Rumblecusp, etc. etc.Emotions run high and the ladies beat themselves up about it.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 9
Kudos: 63





	1. Beau

**Author's Note:**

> i literally paused the episode so i could write this  
> PLEASE don't ask me how they get in the treehouse now that vilya's gone i can't figure it out and i can't find any more information about it anywhere and i was very stressed thinking about the logistics of that  
> (part 1/3)

Beau's head was foggy as she stumbled her way to the treehouse. Echoes of her conversation with Fjord ached through her entire body. _You know how she feels about you, or at least how she did. I don't know if she still does._ Beau let out a sigh. _Literally everyone has a crush on her. Like, at least all of Mighty Nein._ It was a dumb thing to say. A dumb way to admit to Fjord that she liked Jester. What had he said? _You know when someone makes you feel a way that you don't think you have any right to feel, or you never thought that you might?_

Of course Beau knew. She knew it every time Jester insisted on sharing a room--sometimes even a bed--with her. She knew it every time Jester took her by surprise, made her laugh, made her feel... okay. And then Beau would realize what was happening, and pull herself out of it. _I am not in love with my best friend,_ she told herself. _I can't be. I won't let it happen._

She'd told Fjord as much: _She's so enigmatic. She's just- she's... she's got this way, when she talks._ Beau's eyes stung. _I think... it's easy to lust after Jester because she's... sparkles, and confetti, and shiny._

She scolded herself silently. _Lust? Really, Beau? Why not just tell Fjord you've already come for his girl? Well, not HIS girl. Like, she doesn't belong to anyone, of course. Agh, you know what I mean! Point is, you really fucked that one up. He's going to think you have--or had--a thing with her, and then he's going to back off like the nice guy he is. And Jester won't get that fairytale with him that she wants. She's not going to be happy. And it's because of you. Fuck._ Beau furiously wiped the tears from her face. It doesn't count as real crying if it's only one tear from each eye, right? That could be anything. Maybe a bug flew into her eye. Or something. _Jester deserves to be happy,_ she told herself. _And there's no way she could be happy with you. Who could be? She's better off with Fjord, the literal guy of her dreams. There are probably no women in her dreams anyway. She just wants to be your friend, and you're taking it somewhere else._

Beau made her way into the house that was once Vilya's, finding most of her friends already asleep, or at least about to be. Most were on the floor, making use of the hides and pillows Vilya offered them. Beau realized she was standing next to the sleeping form of Yasha.

Yasha. Beau hadn't been lying when she told Fjord her feelings regarding Yasha. From the moment she'd set eyes on her, Beau knew she was something special. Yasha was power and softness at the same time. Beau had waited a long time for Yasha. Over time, she'd observed Yasha changing. She watched her hands. Yasha's hands were capable of causing devastation--and they had, in the past, but now she chose to use them for gentler things: holding flowers, hands, Beau's heart, you know, the works. And a few days ago, Yasha had held Beau herself, gathered Beau up in her muscled arms and sprouted wings. Yasha was perfect. A literal, actual angel. Loving Yasha felt... allowed. Where Jester felt off-limits, Yasha felt safe. She was comfort, security, and warmth. Beau was closer to Jester, true, but that made parsing out her feelings for Yasha all the easier.

Beau's foot caught on the edge of an animal hide on the floor. She stumbled for a moment, hissing out a slurred curse under her breath.

Something on the bed rustled. Was that a sniffle Beau heard? Then a small voice spoke in an unmistakable Nicodranas accent: "Beau?"

"What is it?" Beau whispered back.

"Can you share the bed with me tonight?"

Beau hesitated a moment. She heard what was definitely a sniffle this time.

"Of course, Jes."


	2. Jester

Yasha, Caduceus, Caleb, and Veth had insisted Jester take the bed--after all, tomorrow was her big day. Tomorrow. As Jester lay back, her heart did a full on dance routine inside her. Her stomach churned. She was excited, right? This was excitement. She was happy. Happy definitely feels like this. Everything's on the right track, right? Her amazing friends had helped her make a game plan, and everything was set to run smoothly. Besides... the Traveler--sorry, Artagan--and the Mighty Nein spending a day together? It was all her favorite people at once, minus Mama and Bluud. What's not to love? Right? Jester squeezed her eyes shut just as the tears began to spill out. There were so, so many ways this could all go wrong.

And then there was the question of what would happen after.

What if the Mighty Nein ran out of adventures? What if Veth and her family moved back to the Empire? What if Caleb went with them? Or if Fjord became a sailor again? If Caduceus went back home? If Beau... The image of Beau in Yasha's arms flashed into Jester's mind. Jester replayed the scene that hadn't left her head for the past few days. As Beau and Yasha made their soft landing just above the surface of the water, their stunned, ecstatic faces beamed at each other. Jester hadn't seen that expression on Beau's face before. And then they'd disappeared into the clouds for the next forty minutes. Did Yasha make her smile like that the whole time? A pang of jealousy shot through her stomach like an arrow. Guilt bled from the wound on impact, staining Jester's conscience. Jester had no right to be jealous of Yasha or Beau. They deserved each other. They were her friends. Beau was her best friend. Shouldn't she want them to be happy? Why was it so upsetting to her in the first place?

Jester turned onto her stomach, pressing her quiet, wet face right into the pillow.

The truth was, she hadn't really sorted out her feelings about Beau, ever. She knew they were a little bit tied to her feelings about Fjord, as well. She'd measured them against each other many times. When she met Fjord, it was like he'd walked straight out of one of her books. She'd spent her teen years studying the road maps intently. She knew exactly how to navigate this kind of relationship: what to say, how to flirt, how to gorgeously need rescue, how to be endearingly happy all the time. But sometimes it felt like Jester was reading maps to a distant city she'd never been to and would never reach. Sometimes she just found herself at a dead end.

And Beau? Beau was... completely uncharted territory. Jester didn't even know where to begin with Beau--or where she wanted to end up. Of course, Beau was a friend. One of her first friends. Ever. But a "what if" tugged at Jester's heart whenever she and Beau had to share a bed out of necessity at some inn on their travels. What if Jester spent the rest of her mornings waking up to a monk snoring sweetly in her ear? What if Jester got to hold Beau's hand without needing an excuse? What if she could make Beau happy indefinitely? What if?

But Jester didn't have a road map for that. She'd never seen one before. One time in her childhood, she'd seen her mother clutching the hand of a female client, leading her to the bedroom. Some kind of secret sparklers set off inside Jester's brain, something that told her _That's good, but it's special for you. Nobody else will understand it like you do._ Jester remembered feeling her face flush warm and purple. She'd felt like she was seeing something she shouldn't. After all, Mama had always read her stories about daring knights and sweet princesses. She'd never mentioned two princesses. Or a girl knight. So Jester created her own supplementary materials in secret. She would make her crayon drawings of two figures holding hands: one in a dress, and one in pants. One was a girl in a dress. The other was a girl in pants, but no one had to know that but Jester. She'd stare at these drawings for a while, then rip the page out of her sketchbook and methodically tear it into tiny, tiny pieces.

As she got older, Jester pushed those crayon drawings out of her mind. Her fairy tales were replaced by romance novels, and there was no turning back from those. She was hooked. She became every waifish heroine in a low-cut gown, ready to run to the nearest man with chiseled arms of marble. Jester read bodice rippers like they were how-to guides, telling herself that this was totally what she wanted.

So when she met Fjord, how could she not cast him opposite herself? He was perfect. He checked every single box: muscles, mysterious past, skilled with a weapon, literal magical powers... and then Beau came along. And Jester found herself thinking about those crayon drawings again.

And for a little while, Jester thought she'd had a chance. If she'd ever had one at all, it was gone now. Beau would never see her as anything beyond a best friend. And Jester knew she had to make her peace with that.

She lay in bed, surrounded by her friends on the floor around her, but feeling so immensely alone at the same time. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone entering the chamber. She lay very still, trying to assess-

"Fucking shit!" Well, it was definitely Beau. Jester sat up in bed, grateful for the darkness, and managed to ask, in her best I-haven't-been-crying voice, if Beau could join her in the bed.

There was an agonizing beat of silence. And then Jester could practically hear the smile in Beau's response. Beau picked her way around their sleeping friends and climbed into the bed, sitting up on her side--she always took the left. Jester scooted as close to her as she dared. Beau smelled like sweat and alcohol, but Jester didn't mind that as much as... everything else about sleeping beside Beau. "You okay?" Beau asked in a loud whisper, reaching for Jester's hand.

Jester felt her throat tighten. She knew that she wouldn't be able to get words out if she tried. She shook her head, then remembered Beau couldn't see her. She tentatively placed a hand on Beau's arm. What was an okay move to make? Before she could deliberate any further, Beau's arms were around her. Jester leaned her head against Beau's shoulder, shivering as Beau's fingers traced patterns down her back. "Tomorrow will be... fucking... amazing, you know," Beau told her. "You're brilliant, Jes. Like, radiant. Tomorrow's gonna be fine. I know you."

Jester managed to take control of her breath enough to whisper back: "I'm more afraid of what happens after that."

"Shit, Jes," Beau pulled back from the embrace. "I kind of am too. But I think I want to be near you for whatever it is."

"Are you sure?"

"If you'll have me."

"I'd like that." Jester gave a teary smile and lay down. Beau lay beside her, arm draped over Jester's body, breathing in the smell of lavender perfume.


	3. Yasha

Yasha lay on her back as she listened to the whispered conversation from the bed. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but they were all in the same room. How could she not? She let out a little sigh. She'd been doing so well. She had literally been flying high, on wings that were healing along with her heart. Now her heart felt like it was on fire, furiously ripping apart the inside of her chest. She felt helpless. She couldn't even feel the warmth of its flames, just the cold fog of rejection closing in around her. She let in a shaky breath.  
Yasha didn't cry easily. She held a kind of emotional inertia within her: if her eyes were dry, they remained so unless acted upon by an outside force. But when she started, she couldn't stop. Yasha tried to steady her breathing. She wasn't about to let this outside force enact itself upon her now. Not before a day centered all around Jester.  
The worst part was that Yasha wasn't jealous or angry at Jester. She harbored no ill feelings except toward herself, for getting her own hopes up. Hadn't she gotten the message yet? She didn't belong here. She still didn't. Maybe it was for the best. After all, everyone she'd ever loved had been killed just out of her sight. Maybe that was the plan for her. Maybe the Stormlord was trying to preserve her independence. It was an important survival tool, after all.  
But hadn't Yasha been alone enough? Hadn't she suffered enough? Didn't she deserve to be loved, goddammit? Didn't she deserve one good thing, for once?  
Beau was saying something now. Soft words. Words Yasha had longed to hear for herself. Fuck! Why was this so hard? She rolled over onto her stomach, pressing her face into the couch pillow she'd used the night before. She took a shaky deep breath. The pillow smelled a bit like lavender. She had pressed that into her book before.  
The book... Yasha didn't know what to do with the book. That had been a coping method for a woman more severely wounded than she had been in a long time. Yasha had told herself she wouldn't--couldn't--feel that way for anyone again, her heart too brittle to do anything but break more. She had sometimes imagined, while picking and pressing her flowers, what it would be like to braid them into Zuala's hair. Maybe she could do something gentle for once. And then she would tell herself her gentleness had died with her wife.  
Molly had been different, of course--not that she hadn't loved him, but she'd loved him with a different kind of love. At first, they had been comfortable simply coexisting together. Their friendship slowly inched forward with the seasons, until they were comfortably huddled together under blankets as a cold wind chilled their little tent. Soon they were telling each other things no one else had heard before. They had been shelters for each other. And he understood her boundaries--sometimes she just had to go off on her own. And then, the time she didn't want to leave but was dragged away from him...  
Yasha shook her head. This wasn't helping. Nothing was. She quietly pushed her blanket aside and got to her feet. A walk would help. She was so lost in her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed anything moving behind her.  
The moon was barely visible in the night sky. Yasha wandered through the village, soundlessly observing the late-night partygoers from a distance, not knowing that she was being observed herself. She settled against a quiet tree and closed her eyes.  
Beau didn't love her back. The fear of this exact situation had lain dormant in Yasha's mind for a while now, and now it was her reality. Really, she should've seen this coming. I mean, who could resist sweet, playful, adoring, loyal, beautiful Jester, whose smile could end wars? Yasha hugged her knees to her chest. Ok, maybe she felt something for Jester too. But what did it matter?  
Something rustled behind her. Yasha's hands balled into fists. Was she seriously so stupid she forgot to bring a weapon with her?  
Within a second, Yasha could tell there was no need anyway. A surefooted firbolg settled beside her, gentle smile peeking from behind waves of pink hair.  
"I heard you leave," Caduceus told her. "I wanted to make sure everything was ok."  
She was silent a moment. Where could she even start?  
"Is... everything ok?" he asked her, eyebrows gently raised.  
Was it? She shook her head slowly.  
"Do you want to talk about it?" his voice was gentle.  
"She's in love with Jester, Caduceus." Yasha couldn't bring herself to speak above a whisper.  
"Ah," he gently reached for her hand. "I see."  
"I don't know what to do," she admitted. "I... I just thought maybe... I had a chance. You know? Like, this one time, I had a chance."  
"I... know the feeling," he said slowly. "The person I'm in love with... well. The person I love is in love with Jester, too."  
Yasha turned to face her friend. His lip was trembling. "Sorry," he told her. "I didn't mean to make that about me. I came to ask about you."  
"No, no, it's ok," she told him. "Come here. Do you want a hug?"  
"That would be nice." His voice caught in his throat, and soon he was crying, and Yasha was crying, but they had their arms wrapped tightly around each other, and he was proven correct: it was, in fact, very nice.

**Author's Note:**

> *EDIT: 11/13*  
> I just want to make a disclaimer that I wrote this fic the week of the Travelercon episode (over a month ago). This week, Tal confirmed via Twitter that Caduceus is aro-ace. For now, I'm keeping this chapter the way it is, because at the time I'd written it there was no confirmation that Cad wouldn't be attracted to Fjord in any romantic or sexual capacity. For now, consider this a preserved relic from an earlier time, and if people care enough about me changing Cad's dialogue here, I will totally get around to it, just comment below!


End file.
